


Nihil ex Nihilo

by OfAMind



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cathartic pour moi., Character Study, Dany feels, F/M, Sad?, collection of drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-19 16:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfAMind/pseuds/OfAMind
Summary: An attempt to understand the workings of D&D's mess of a take on Daenerys Targaryen.Works through her past, up until the Throne Room scene with Jon.





	1. Chapter 1

1:

_Oh will you never see the good days?_

__

__

_Oh will you never see remains?_

\--

Rubble. As far as her maddened eyes could see, there was rubble. It fit, she thought dimly, recalling the glory of what that rubble used to be. It wasn’t truly gone, no, it was simply transformed. 

For true glory can never be destroyed.  
True glory will always live on.

At least, that’s what she tells herself as she watches her life’s work crumble to dust.  
The dust will scatter, yet it will always exist.

\--

_Never gaze upon the true ways_

__

__

_Never find their bitter ends._  
 


	2. Chapter 2

2:

Daenerys had never been one to dawdle. Ever since gaining her Eastern crown, she realized the true meaning of power, and that it mustn’t be abused. She knows she must always act quick, and in the better interest of her subjects. She knows this.

Yet this strange land keeps on _pushing_ her.

If only it would yield.

In Viserys’s tales, the mouse that fancied itself a dragon, the rubble she just created had been _glorious_. 

It had forlornly called to them, the exiled dragons, in utter loss. It mourned them, it wished for their return.

In little Dany’s mind, that was naught but a fanciful tale. Of course, her brother believed, and so would she, lest she wake the dragon.

All _she_ had ever wanted was the red-doored house with the quaint lemon tree.

Then it had happened. Her beloved brother had been saddled with precious his golden crown, and she had been thrust the role of a lady.

How fearful she was, that fateful night. How scared.

_How could he submit me to this fate? Didn’t he love me?_

Of course, she made do. She didn’t dawdle. She did not dwell in tears and misery. She adapted.

And that burdensome ‘fate’ had become her sun and stars.

If only she still had the energy to adapt. To make bright and sunny what the rest saw as rugged and harsh and dull.

Perhaps it had burnt with her childhood fate, the night she stepped into that pyre. Perhaps burning the destiny her brother saddled her with like she had saddled her Silver, but that she had grown to ‘love’ all the same, burned out her elasticity.

Of course, that was never the only destiny her brother willed her. Of course, she had to take up his royal mantle. For who else would? Who else _could_? 

Only the dragon was fit to rule, and she had woken three.  
 ~~ _Four, if one counted her mummer of a brother._~~


	3. Chapter 3

3:

~~_Could it truly be five?_ ~~

Thinking on it, she thought she could recall perfectly the way her brother would act when the nonbelievers slammed doors in their faces. They would shun their claim, and side with the powers then in charge. It made sense, strategically.

But not to a child who had lost all they had known. Not to Viserys, whose life was turned in one single night. If only he’d learned from his own life and spared hers. 

He hadn’t though. Learned.

He sold her, fractured her, and breathed his farce of a flame at her.

.

Maybe she could finally understand him now.

~~Except, she had proper flames to burn with.~~

She burned through, thinking of all she, too, had lost.

.

 

~~Maybe, when she rose from that pyre, she had awoken a fifth dragon.~~  
 


	4. Chapter 4

4: 

Sweet Missandei, of the isle of Naath, sweet child who never lost heart.

She too had been able to adapt, once upon a time.

If pure good could speak, it would have Missandei’s voice.  
But Daenerys had heard that voice, heard it whisper her fiery word.

It had snapped her, that word. It had struck her more than Missandei’s lolling head ever could.

For if good could wither so quick, could turn and wish vengeful death so quick, then there was no point to good’s existence.

_~~It had never occurred to her that Missandei had meant something else. That, maybe, the gentle confidante only sought to remind her of their first meeting, of how adaptable and clever Dany could’ve been. Of how freedom free of madness could taste.~~ _

Poor Missandei, of the fate of the damned, poor child who had had a golden heart.  
 


	5. Chapter 5

5:

Betrayal was blunt.

She had been told to watch for three.

Three blunted swords, three withered ties.

.

Perhaps it had ruined her.

She looked in every corner, now. She sniffed it off every cup she’d been given.

 

Up north, it was a jealous, cunning, red blaze.

How fitting, that it might be a blaze.

How fitting, when blazes seem to take away all of her life’s loves.

Her Snow was dead to her, now. It had melted of a blaze.

 

Back East it had been more than she could count. One that stuck was that of her bear’s.

Of course, she had forgiven him. He was loyal, he returned. He stood tall with her through her reddened path.

Of course, then, she had lost him too.

What was left to adapt for? To change and submit for?

_Cersei_? A bunch of peasants that would only ever look at her in fear?

 

Perhaps Viserys had the right of it. The dragon _had_ to be woken sometimes.

 

To live in fear and paranoia was no life lived at all, and perhaps that was why she had never felt quite so alive as when she rid herself of that fear through blunt dragonfire.

~~_Whispers in the dark ran rampant. She simply couldn’t stay her hand._~~  
 


	6. Chapter 6

6:

~~_Queen of the Ashes._~~  
Tyrion did always have a knack for words.

 

She supposed, now, she might have to rid the world of his spinning words.

A shame.

Mercy led to failure. Mirri Maz Duur had seen to that lesson being emblazoned in Dany’s heart.

.

…Was there a heart left in her chest? She often wondered.

It came as no surprise, then, to want to salvage her melted Snow. If only she’d known water could freeze into pointed ice just as quick as it could melt.

It was so _close_ now.

To her young mind, a thousand swords meant towering, glorious edges pointed towards the heavens. The girl below that yellow lemon tree would’ve never expected that a thousand swords could ever be so… _pathetic_.

They were melted.

And, perhaps, so was she.

_~~Maybe she never was fireproof. Maybe only her rage was The Unburnt.~~ _

For out of nothing, nothing becomes.


End file.
